


Unhinged

by energeticMadwoman



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bioshock AU, Gen, Insane frostiron is the best frostiron, M/M, Oops, Tony's heart sometimes falls out of his chest, kinda creepy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-25
Updated: 2016-11-17
Packaged: 2018-08-27 00:50:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8381329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/energeticMadwoman/pseuds/energeticMadwoman
Summary: Steve Rodgers has found himself in the underwater city of Rapture.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this idea popped up in my head and I kinda just ran with it. I might make this into a series, idk. But anyways, enjoy!

_“You’ll need Stark’s key,”_ Fury grumbled from the radio. _“He runs the place, but don’t expect him to hand it to you out of the milk of human kindness. Stark ain’t that kind, and quite frankly, I’m not even sure he’s still human.”_

     Steve began the perilous walk to the mechanical pavilion, his _Electro bolt_ plasmid crackling away in his left hand and a death gripped pistol in his right. Echoing splicer screams and cackles filled the air, shadows danced on the walls. The stench of wet blood hit Steve’s nostrils like a freight train, making his stomach queasy.

 

     He could hear Fury giving him tips about the pavilion in the back of his mind, they were probably helpful, and Steve did feel guilty about ignoring the man, but it was taking all his effort to not collapse from a previous shot to the stomach. He needed to find a health station, fast. Blue eyes darted around as he walked through the sliding doors of the mechanical pavilion, the neon sign was barely hanging on by a few weak wires and he could hear distant cackles from one of the vending machines. Letting out a relieved sigh, Steve limped over to one of the health stations, quickly paying it a few loose dollars and relaxing his stance as the pain became nonexistent.

 

     Finished, Steve set off up the spiral stairs, stepping over a few splicer bodies and looting a couple of dollars. He squinted his eyes as the hallway in front of him turned a washed grey (another vision, he’d been having a lot of those lately), a disfigured man stood, banging on the door with a metal arm. What had once been a normal right arm was now tearing at the seams, grotesque patches of ripped skin, blood, and wires covered the length of it, sickening tear marks were at the base of the shoulder as if the man had tried to remove the arm himself. Each time the man pounded the door, Steve could see flashes of pain light up in his eyes. He questioned why the man didn’t just use his other arm until he realized. The man didn’t have another arm. His left arm was just a stump, a few blood soaked wires hung exposed from its base. Apparently, the man was successful in removing it. Steve didn’t want to see it, yet it was difficult to tear his eyes away.

 

“Stark!” The specter called wetly, he was crying. “You promised you’d fix me, Stark! STARK!” It was heart wrenching, and Steve was relieved when the vision faded.

 

     The doors slid open and Steve faltered at the bloody images in front of him. Mechanical humanoid bodies hung limply from the ceiling, limbs twisted at odd angles, missing, and one of the bodies even had extras. If Steve squinted, he could see chunks of flesh between metal plates. Blood dripped from their empty eye sockets, and the body on the far left even had a cracked open head; brain matter slowly seeped out. There were _people_ in those. Steve let out a shaky sigh and cursed whoever was monstrous enough to do this.

 

     Shots whizzed past him, just narrowly missing his arm. Now wasn’t the time to ponder on this, Steve had some splicers to kill.

 

 

     Steve stood at the door of _Stark’s Mechanical Perfections_ , with a new shotgun and a body pumped full of plasmids. He was _ready_.

 

     The soldier trudged through the underwater tunnel, Big Daddy creaks could be heard in the distance. There are a few cracks in the glass- which made him feel a bit worse than he already did about walking through the unstable tunnels- so he jogged a bit faster. He could hear what was probably a recording of Stark’s crazed rambling coming from the overhead speakers.

 

     “ _With mechanical modifications, power is so easy to acquire don’t ya think? It’s a moral obligation for Christ’s sake! Do you mix the broken with the perfect? No! So why should the powerful be content to mix with the single minded weak?”_

     The sliding doors creaked as they opened, another altar of technology and blood was plastered on the wall behind them. At this point, Steve had become immune to it, the feeling of wrongness the “art” gave off was barely registering. He trudged around the corner, following the mumblings of what he supposed was Stark to the main room. When he turned the corner, he froze.

 

     He saw Stark. Or, at least what was left of him.

 

     Steve was pretty sure Fury was right; he wasn’t human. At this point, Stark was beyond gone. Metal frames had been fused to his body like an exoskeleton, fading and blinking blue lights were placed at the joints. Rusted iron covered his back in odd patches, wires fell from the base of his neck and connected to something in his front. He was shaking, mumbling incoherent phrases and numbers as he tore into the body beneath him. Steve assumed the poor splicer was paralyzed, it didn’t move but it’s eyes were darting everywhere. A careful incision had been made at the throat, _so_ _it couldn’t speak._ The splicer’s mouth was open in silent screams.

 

     Steve had been so absorbed in the splicer, he hadn’t even noticed Stark turning his head at him.

 

     Stark’s face, couldn’t really be seen. He had some kind of metal mask that stopped just above his mouth. It looked like it could have once been a brilliant gold, but now it was faded and scuffed, burn marks could be seen in the top left corner and there was a deep dent in the other. His eyes had been replaced (who on earth knows how though) with small clear lenses that gave off a soft, eerie blue light. From what Steve could see of Stark’s face, it was in pretty bad shape. Steve guessed he probably blew something up from the massive burns scattered across his chin. Steve trailed his eyes downward to the man’s chest, or lack thereof. There was a massive hole in Stark’s chest (sure it had metal lining but _still_ ), all the wires seemed to be leading into it. Steve quirked his mouth, where did they connect to? That made no sense- _Plop!_

Steve cringed at the sound and couldn’t help but watch in horror as Stark’s heart fell limply out of his chest, another blue light seemingly emitting from it. _Was that what was keeping him going?_ Steve was appalled as the mechanic picked up his wire ridden heart and placed it back into his hole of a chest, as if this was a normal occurrence.

 

     Bright blue eyes (if those unnervingly bright orbs even be called that) lit up in realization, finally recognizing the man in front of him was in fact, not a splicer. “No, no no no no…” He mumbled as he backed up towards the exit, eyes flickering in anxiety. “I need more time, more _time! He said I had more time!”_ Stark scrambled through the hall, and in a last ditch effort, shot some kind of energy at some loose debris, causing the entrance to cave in.

 

     Steve sighed and switched to his telekinesis plasmid, he’s sure that he saw a thuggish splicer with some bombs around here somewhere.

 

 

     After an extremely tedious fight, Steve was finally able to get a grenade to blow down the pile of debris. Though the explosion had gotten him through the hall, he knew better than to think he made this area any more structurally sound. So Steve hurried through into the final part of the pavilion.

 

 

     Bashing and shooting splicers, Steve made his way deeper into the facility. Blue eyes were darting feverishly, where had Stark gotten off to? He wasn’t exactly hard to miss and- oh. Steve had never been down this hallway before. Footsteps echoed on the walls as he stepped down the tile staircase. Gun at the ready, the solider emerged into a lab. There Stark was, in the center, sat on a stool and tinkering on a sleek mechanic suit. In another life, when the _engineer wasn’t clinically insane_ , Steve thought that he might have been able to appreciate its beauty. Slim iron, made for finesse and agility, painted in a deep crimson red with various gold accents. But now, all he could think of is that he needed to get that key from Stark, killing him and stopping his madness from spreading would just be a bonus.

 

     The aforementioned man seemed to be talking to himself. “It’s beautiful Jarvis, look at it! I did this, _I did THIS!_ And I’m sure daddy dearest would be _so proud of me._ ” He cackled bitterly to himself, sarcasm flowing through his words. “Maybe I’d even get that stuck-up magician to be amazed at something other than himself for once in his life!” Stark stepped off the stool, and threw his hands up in the air, excitement shown through his eyes. “Ah, ha! I’ve done it! She’s all done. _Perfection, finally!”_

    

    The moment ended abruptly as Stark froze. His head tilted to the side in curiosity, and an ugly sneer stretched across his face. “What did you say Jarvis? We have a _traitor_ in our midst?” The mechanic rose and whipped around to look at Steve, his grotesque heart fell out of its chest container again. Rage painted his words, just as vivid as the colors on his invention. “He’s going to _ruin us_! Look at him, he’s a disgrace! I can’t believe the nerve of this _disgusting little-!_ ”

 

     Stark suddenly stopped his words, and in place of them, a maniacal smile bloomed. Deadly and vicious. With a steady hand, he reached behind him and pressed a button on the table. Mechanical whirs echoed in the room as the table slowly elevated itself into a vertical position, the suit slowly opening up like a cracked shell. Stark removed his mask slowly, more dramatically than he had any right to if Steve was honest.   


     Stark’s face was horrid, burn marks littered from his forehead all the way down to his carefully sculpted chin. Scars and scratches littered his face, the most prominent ones around his eyes. Two perfect horizontal lines trailed across his eyes, they were eerily perfect. They probably rendered Stark’s eyes useless, if Steve was thinking correctly. Those unnerving blue orbs in the cavities left by Stark’s eyes were probably their replacement. But whether the blinding was intentional or accidental, Steve couldn’t exactly tell.

 

     With a chilling laugh, the man stepped back into the suit, his arms stretched wide as if beckoning Steve to fight him. The crimson panels shut around him, and just as the last plate was secure, Steve could see blood pooling out from the openings in the armor.

 

     “Are you a bit confused, Soldier?” Stark asked, he took an experimental step forward, towards Steve. “Well, then let me educate you. This right here?” Stark gestured to his shelled body. “This right here is my _life’s work._ This, is perfection. The Iron Man! It’s the perfect combination of metal and man, what we’re all supposed to become! What we all should strive to be.” Stark rolled his shoulders and took another step closer to Steve, the mentioned man stood in his place, frozen in fear and apprehension. Stark continued, raising his voice in rage. “But no one gets it! No one _understands!_ Whenever I try to share his beauty, this, this _gift_. They think it’s an abomination! They think I’m mad! They think that this is wrong, and for so long I believed them! I did! But then, JARVIS came along. My glorious savior!” Another step. “He taught me to embrace it, he taught me how to spread this _beauty_. And now, he’s telling me to gift it to _you._ ”

 

     Stark’s bright eyes projected madness to the point of no return. A twisted joy that only he could understand. His voice dripped with insanity, and Steve felt a sudden chill at the joyful yet horrifying way he said his next words.

 

     “So, come on you ugly piece of scrap! I’m _Tony, motherfreakin' Stark_ , and I'm gonna make you into _perfection!”_


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not very good at fight scenes so you'll have to excuse me if it's not the best. But, I hope you guys enjoy!

     If Steve Rodgers were a lesser man, he probably would have died that instant.

 

     Tony, who was about a foot away from Steve when he finished his rambling, lifted his arm with an experienced swiftness. Steve hardly processed what was happening before a strange energy shot out from a carefully crafted orb in Stark’s palm. Steve dived out of the way, but because of the short range that Stark stood at, the energy clipped the back of Steve’s calf, it burned like the first time he felt plasmids enter his veins (which is to say, “like hell”).

 

     The smell of blood filled the air as Steve limped away from Stark. He fiddled with his plasmids, noticing the pools of oil haphazardly spilled around the lab. He had a chance if he could just- Stark shot again, Steve dodged, it clipped his shoulder. Rodgers saw red, but he also knew he had to concentrate, or else he’d never get out of this hell alive. He shifted his weight to his undamaged leg, crouching in a guarded position.

 

     A laugh sounded from Stark’s external speakers, almost in surprise. “I’ve gotta say, Soldier. I thought that you’d put up more of a fight than this, maybe you see the error of your ways. Is that it?” Stark raised his hand again, Steve was ready.

 

     Stark fired his ball of energy, Steve ducked and rolled out of the way, _Incinerate_ plasmid at the ready, he just needed to get Stark to move forward a bit.

 

     “Come on, blue eyes! You know that you can’t just run from me forever right? You can’t run away from _the truth_! Just accept my gift, and it’ll all get better!” Another shot, another step closer. This shot hit Steve’s knee, Stark was anticipating his strategy.

 

     Steve yelped in pain, he balled his fists till he could feel blood seeping through bone white hands. That shot had fully incapacitated his left leg, leaving him with only his unstable right. Steve cursed under his breath and scooted backwards, he still had time to fix this though. If he could get Stark into an oil puddle… He could burn the man alive. Steve let out a wet and bloodied cough.

 

      In a move that was too fast for Steve to anticipate, Stark darted forward and pulled Steve closer, the suit’s hand tightened around his injured leg. Steve cried out in pain, Stark’s iron grip was strong enough to shatter his leg bone. Bruises bloomed under Stark’s hand. He pulled Steve till he was close enough to feel Steve’s ragged breath against his metal casing. “Don’t you see, Soldier?” Stark’s metallic fingers released their death grip on Steve’s leg and transferred to roughly caressing his cheek.

 

     Stark clocked him across the face. Steve’s head hit the tile flooring with a sickening _thump._ He was sure he’d gotten a concussion, and he was gripping onto consciousness by threads. “You’re so weak,” Stark spat. “So… insignificant.” Stark knelt down, grasped Steve by the neck, and hoisted him off the ground. “But don’t worry.” Stark’s electric eyes felt like they were staring into Steve’s soul. “I’m here, and I’m gonna make you into a believer.”

 

     And Stark _squeezed._

     Steve choked and thrashed his legs in Stark’s grip, he was moments away from Stark crushing his windpipe. If he could just light that puddle that Stark had just stepped into.

 

     Three seconds. No flicker.

 

     Two seconds. No flicker.

 

     One second. A spark fell into the puddle.

 

     Steve could feel the fire beneath his feet. With one last burst of strength, he used Stark’s sudden attention to the fire as a distraction and kicked his way out of Stark’s grip.

 

     Rodgers watched with a sick fascination as fire licked its way up the suit, heating the metal and burning any exposed skin it could reach. Stark let out a pain-filled yell as he thrashed and tried in vain to shake off the fire.

 

     “No! This isn’t fair! Why would you do this? I was only trying to help you!” Stark screamed, Steve didn’t have to see Tony’s face to know that it was twisted into unbridled rage.

 

     Steve watched as Stark fell to his, knees. Choked sobs and splatters of blood dribbled out of the openings in the suit. Soon, the sobs died out, and all that remained were those electric eyes. Their piercing gaze followed Steve, even as Stark’s body slumped to the floor, with a loud clang. The smell of burnt flesh and metal lingered in the air. He stared at Stark’s lifeless corpse for a while, brows furrowed and breaths shaky. Then, he crawled to the table that previously held Stark’s suit and plucked his needed key off of its cool metal surface. Steve then decided he’d lay down for a bit, it wasn’t like he was on a time limit or anything.

 

     After a while, Steve took out the first aid kits he had stored in his pack. He’d have to fix himself up as good as possible then painfully limp towards a health station. Steve was not looking forward to that.

  

* * *

 

     The health station has been reached, and Steve’s external wounds are healed. Unfortunately, Steve didn’t have enough cash on him to fix his shattered leg bone. He puts it into a splint and limps out of the pavilion. Steve can hear his radio crackle back to life, Fury spits more sarcasm and directions into his ear.

 

* * *

 

 _“Thanos handed the keys to Fort Frolic to a mad man with the name of Loki Layfeyson. I always thought the guy was a bit of a nut-job, always ranting about magic. He’s a real lunatic, cut straight from the cloth of a psychopath. Though, some did enjoy him back in the old days. I think he’s an acquired taste,”_ Nick Fury relays.

 

     Steve limps through long hallways, pains still spiking up his leg. He’s not that far away from the _Rapture Metro_ now, he’ll be so glad when he can sit on the posh leather (and questionable substances) of the Bathyshpere’s seat.

 

     An alarm blares as Steve steps over crunched pieces of glass. He looks up and finds a turret bot, whirring away above his head. It hasn’t started to shoot at him, thank God, so it should give him enough time to hack into it. Steve pulls out his spare automatic Hack Tool and promptly shoots the bot in its side. The bot lets out a curious whir and its light flashes green.

 

     It seems that Steve has made a new friend.

 

     They continue through the pavilion, effectively taking out any splicers that stand in their way. A stray bullet from a leadhead splicer hits the bot’s casing. She sputters as she whizzes along now. Steve hasn’t quite seen this ‘Loki’ guy that Fury was ranting about. Maybe someone before him had already killed him? Then again, Fury hadn’t actually told him _where_ the guy was like with Stark. He just told him that Loki had the key. _‘Thanks a lot, Nick.’_ Steve muttered to himself. In any case, Steve was almost to the Bathysphere.

 

     He entered the _Rapture Metro,_ which didn’t hold quite the same jazzy brilliance as its still, surprisingly intact, sign. There were benches, turned on their backs, lining the way to the Bathysphere, a faded green carpet sat beneath them. That prompted Steve to give a second glance, it seemed a bit to intact to be down here, but he didn’t exactly have the patience to question it.

 

     Then, as soon as he looked up from the carpet, Steve watched as the Bathysphere sunk into the waves. He let out a groan of frustration, “Oh come _on_.”

He mourned the loss of his transportation and was about to leave the Metro in search of another, but swift classical music started playing overhead. Steve slowly lifted his head to watch as the Metro slowly transformed.

 

     Long, emerald embroidered ceiling-to-floor curtains swept over the windows, covering up the view of the sea and its sunken city lights. Various splicers, some seemingly frozen in ice, and some twisted in cloth, hung from the ceilings like acrobats in a circus. They were bent into various positions, some relaxed and some performing strenuous poses. Steve could point out one woman who had her legs bent backwards over her back, she was wrapped in a golden ribbon, tied so tight Steve wasn’t sure if she could breathe.

 

     And in the center of it all, the main attraction, was a giant mask, lifted up from the waves. All of the spotlight was on it, and the light reflected off of the mask’s golden sheen making it seem almost new. It was a regal mask, painted a gold that was somehow not gaudy nor tacky, though the antique appearance was ruined by the large amount of blood speckled over it. Two large horns curved from the forehead of the mask, ridged and wickedly sharp. It reminded Steve of wild rams from nature documentaries he would watch in his off time; those horns looked like they could be used to fight. This somehow seemed creepier than the usual desolate and broken down setting Steve was getting used to.

 

     Just then, a voice sounded. A rather normal voice at that, it was deep and posh with an accent that seemed mostly British but with a hint of Scandinavian lurking at the corners. “Hah, well this is most certainly better. Hmm… Nicholas Fury _and_ Thanos I would presume? My, are you popular.”

 

     A deep chuckle sounded through the speakers in the Metro. “You know, there used to be a time when you could get some decent material from the radio. Now, let me ask you something my dear, it is the job of a magician to tickle your senses and broaden your view on the impossible is it not? So why don’t you abandon those blokes and come spend a spell with me, Loki! I’ll be waiting, dear. Do try to be quick in finding me.”

 

    

     Steve rubbed a hand against his face tiredly. “Found him,” he grumbles under his breath. Then he turns to leave the metro


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so this chapter is dedicated to Nikushimi. They reminded me to get off my lazy butt and finish this chapter. Sorry, it's so late! I really have no excuse if I'm being perfectly honest.

     Smooth jazz drifted through the speakers in the Metro, and despite the fact that it probably meant nothing good, Steve was mildly calmed by it.

 

He walked through the pavilion, eyes alert and body prepared to jump at the first sign of danger. He wasn’t sure where this Loki guy was, and if he was completely honest he didn’t want to know. The guy gave him the creeps. But, he did need that key, so he was going to have to find the man.

 

_“You know, there hasn’t been a sign of untainted life like you down here in months, my dear. It has begun to get a bit dreadful I must admit.”_

     Steve jumped, looking around inquisitively as the deep and rich voice drifted through the speakers. He furrowed his brows, was Loki… speaking to him?

 

     A deep laugh echoed through the metro, “ _Startled, are we? Well, I formally apologize, it was not my intention. I am merely curious to see if you’re just another one of those dull mortals… or if you have the potential for a bit_ more.”

 

     As if on cue, Steve watched as spider splicers creeped down from the ceiling, their hooks made screeches on the metal, and they cackled in delight. Steve activated his _Electro Bolt_ and aimed his hand at the two front splicers. With a deciding breath, he fired.

 

     Their bodies dropped like flies, one was dead, its body sizzled as it fell to the ground, a sickening crunch elicited as its body impaled on debris. The other managed to dodge the bolt, it swung from the rafters and was fully prepared to slice a killing blow at his neck.

 

     Steve’s new bot friend, Bucky as he had just been christened, came to the rescue. The small turret on the bot effectively did away with the splicer, and then promptly turned to take care of the other three. Steve let out a relieved and shaky breath. He shot another bolt at another splicer that was creeping in from behind. Dead.

 

     He velvet laugh came from the speakers again. It sounded distinctly pleased, and at the very least amused. _“Oh, I can practically taste the thunder on this one. It has been too long since something of this value stepped into my territory, all that comes through here are peasants and these poor unfortunate souls; occasionally the stray lover… Oh, but where are my manners? You’ll have to forgive me; it has been to long since I had kind company. Come in, come in! I welcome you, into the Fleet Hall!”_

 

     Steve looks around warily and heads into the direction Fury grumbles.

 

* * *

 

 

     _“Welcome! My dear, to Fort Frolic! There’s no need to thank me for jamming your little radio, there is really no need to hear the squabbles of Fury and Thanos. Both are poisonous in their own right, and they get nowhere with their petty arguments. The magician however… heh. Yes, the magician_ knows _that there is more than meets the eye.”_   There is a pause. And Steve looks around the large room, he’s been trapped.

 

     There isn’t a way out as far as he can tell.

 

     He peers at a few display cases, plasmids littered decoratively inside. They’re padlocked, and the glass was built to keep out thieves. Steve can see some more ribbon wrapped splicers, though the ones dipped in plaster are certainly a new edition. They’re posed like an audience around the spiraling staircase in the center of the room. It’s almost like they beckon him.

 

     _“For example,”_ The voice starts up again. _“I brought you here to test you, little mortal. I test everyone who falls into my apprenticeship. Some, like my most recent, shine like stars and galaxies… some fall through the void. Come now! And we’ll see which one you really are.”_

 

     Steve traversed into the winding hallways of Fort Frolic. It was considerably better looking than Stark’s lab, Steve noted. Much less cluttered and messy. It seemed that someone had gone through and cleaned up some of the debris. Though, the differences ended there. In nearly every room Steve visited, there was a… scene depicted with a few Splicers.

 

     In the first room, Steve saw a Houdini splicer stuck in a chained up, windowed, box. It was slowly but steadily filling itself with water. He was reminded of those circus acts his momma took him to see when he was little. A magician would lock himself inside one of the boxes as he steadily became closer to death. They always escaped, though this splicer was not having the same luck. The poor thing seemed like it had been there a while, and Steve nearly took pity on it, but then he spotted the two hulking splicers that stood on guard on either side of the box.

 

     Steve decided it wasn’t worth it.

 

     He walked down numerous hallways, past numerous doors. Same setup, different performances. He saw a failed and gory attempt at sword eating, a splicer viciously cut in half, a poor girl locked into a box while two splicers were forced to shove wickedly sharp swords into little latches on the box. Blood pooled into the hallways.

 

     Steve entered Fleet Hall.

 

* * *

 

     He came to a large theater hall. There were more plastered bodies littering the audience, captured in poses of awe and wonder. Steve could see another act on the stage. There was a muscular man, trapped in a box that seemed to just barely fit him. The walls were pushing in on him, he wouldn’t hold out for much longer.

 

 _“Come on, Odinson!”_ Loki’s voice sounded from one of the theater boxes. He was too far back to see and shrouded in darkness. His voice carried through the room as if he had a microphone. _“Where is your fabled strength? Use it!”_ The man was struggling, but to Steve’s surprise, he actually replied to Loki. In coherent sentences.

 

     “Cease this madness! Let me out of here! I cannot-.“ Boom. The box shut with a sickening crunch. Redness flowed through the gap left behind by the man’s body. A maniacal laugh drifted through the air, Laufeyson no doubt. Despite Steve’s resistance, a yelp of horror escaped his lips.

 

     _“Come now, Little one. Life and death… It’s all just a show! Yes, yes, it is merely a show that is meant to be captured and amazed at really. That, is the magician’s unfortunate burden, my dear. Why don’t you take that little contraption of yours and capture Mr. Odinson’s glorious pose? Hurry, now, the oaf won’t stay still forever. I’d very much like to remember him in this moment.”_  
  
     Steve froze in his place. His face pale and hands shaking at his sides. He’s been down here in Rapture for a while and has seen people get brutally murdered many ways. However, getting crushed to death in front of an audience was certainly a new one.

 

     Loki didn’t like Steve’s hesitation. “ _Are you_ brain dead _, mortal? I told you to take the bloody picture! He won’t stay like that!”_ His voice was filled with sudden rage and exasperation. Steve fumbled with his camera and hurriedly took the photo of Mr. Odinson’s cooling corpse.

 

     _“Thank you. Now you’ve caught him, perfect in his final fleeting moment of perfection. It seems you have an eye for photography, my dear! Come along, little one. I have other things for you to do, this is the start of our apprenticeship it would seem.”_

 

     Loki directed him out of the auditorium, and into Poseidon Plaza.

 

     _“I do know why you are here little one, you are your own man. Someone with power running through his veins, you’ve painted with the blood a man that I loved and you’ll paint with the blood of the man that I hate. Yes, yes I do believe I’ll send you to Thanos, but first you must do something for me.”_

 

     Steve stopped in his tracks and looked up at one of the security cameras. “You mentioned two people, who’s the other?” He questioned, curiosity got the better of him. Stark was on the look-out, he hadn’t noticed killing an extra head honcho around the Metro, he’d have to stay on guard.

 

     _“Why, Stark of course.”_ Oh. _Oh._ Steve’s cautious train of thought just derailed.

     “You… and Stark?” He asked. Then again, it had been mildly obvious, for he knew that there wasn’t anyone else around but splicers. An affirmative hum came from the speakers.

 

    _“Who else would it have been?”_

 

     “I just… Thought Stark was a bit too far gone and- wait. Why are you not mad at me?”

 

     A bitter laugh sounded from the speakers, it was broken and full of pain that hadn’t been there before. Laufeyson was a good liar, Steve noted. _“Oh, my dear mortal. I am pissed at you, and had you not been my only source of entertainment, I would have killed you on spot. However, I need you now. You’ve already started the show and I can assure you that you won’t be leaving until the curtains close.”_

 

     Steve nodded nervously, and continued walking.

 

     _“Now,”_ Loki continued. His voice was full of that false cheer again. It was disorienting. _“Before I send you off to Thanos, I am going to need a little something from your end. That’s how spells work, you know. Equal exchange and all that. Now, what I need you to do is fairly simple, I assure you. In fact, here’s the good news! Odinson, was in fact just the beginning. I have three more for you to capture, all former… followers, we shall call them. They’re all connected by that thick rope of betrayal. I want you to find them, and immortalize them in my atrium. Then, and only then, will I allow you a sliver of a chance to leave with your life and your ticket to Thanos.”_

 


End file.
